Foolish
by m00seface
Summary: Netherlands walks Sweden's dog and comes to realize he has feels. Neth's POV mainly. NethSve/IKEA pair


**Author's note:**  
Headcanon of mine: Blomägg is Hanatamago's name translated into Swedish.

"Can y' walk Blomägg fer me, please? Want t' finish th' puzzle b'fore bed."

Eyes met the Swede's crystal blue ones, which had previously been intensely staring at the crossword puzzlebook in his hands. _'Zweedse puzzels'_ they were called in Dutch - with good reason. Berwald seemed rather obsessed with the crossword puzzles. Willem was fine with it as it allowed him to watch Dutch TV while the other entertained himself otherwise.

"..It's your dog." A look that told plenty was shot at the tall blonde, another moment of silence falling between them as the Swede just stared at him with those piercing, beautiful eyes. Willem was not the sort of man to follow orders so blindly from others, independent and stubborn as he was. Yet, for Berwald... Well, just this once, he told himself.

With a sigh he retrieved the tiny dog's leash and attached it to her collar while muttering in his native tongue that if he wanted to walk a dog in the middle of the night, he would have bought a dog years ago. The Dutchman was quite content with just keeping bunnies in a run, where they could not ruin his house with filth. Yet the more Berwald stayed over, the more often that dog was brought along (because he had 'shared custody' and it was 'his weekend'). Which meant he found little white hairs stuck to his once so clean furniture. It was enough to make his skin crawl at times, followed by a long day of excessive cleaning as soon as Berwald stepped out of the door to return back home.

After having thrown a half-hearted glare at the occupied blonde, he finally took his leave and guided the white ball of hair outside into the cold spring night. He was thankful for his thick striped scarf to keep him warm even in a season where it shouldn't be needed. Winter should be long over by now, yet the cold remained. Though it could be worse - it was still snowing almost daily in Stockholm, which was why Berwald chose to stay with him whenever he could these days.

As a dark shadow he stalked down the abandoned road with the leashed dog. He lived in the outskirts of Amsterdam, his house remote from traffic or neighbors. Willem had specifically bought an old farm here centuries ago to have it turned into his permanent house from that moment on. This place was ideal for him; close to his capital, far enough from the people. Practically nobody knew who he was, except for some officials. That was how he liked to keep it, able to enjoy the solidarity as well.

With cold wind gushing around him, his hair was blown out of model swiftly. Even a mixture of all his hair products was not strong enough to keep it in place, though he was used to the harsh winds that came with living so close to the North Sea and walking through the wide open grasslands. Walking the dog for about ten minutes, making sure she had done all her needs in the grass beside the narrow road, the Dutchman eventually came to a stop halfway back home. There he let his arms rest upon a fence after he lit his last cigarette for that day.

With the smoke hanging loosely between his lips as he inhaled, he gave the dog a pondering look. She just stood and wagged her tail happily at him, emitting a soft encouraging bark. A huff came accompanied with a puff of smoke through his nostrils, leaning back against the fence as he turned his eyes up to the dark night sky, losing himself in his musings. Perhaps the Swede wasn't as persuasive as he thought, to have him convinced with a simple look to let him walk the dog. Perhaps it was him who was the one who was easily fooled in this case. Which was a thought that led a rather eerie feeling to come over the Dutchman.

To be persuaded by a look so easily - just a look with those icy eyes and that handsome face - it was enough to strike some fear in his heart. At least, it should have been. How he felt about Berwald was foreign and odd to him, yet welcoming at the same time. The thought of commitment had scared him off months ago and made him keep his distance, knowing the Swede was the domestic type and that he himself certainly was not. He didn't want to give him false hope, and had thus insisted that their relationship was nothing more than a 'friends with benefits'-kind of thing, that they could have fun while it lasted. But he felt at ease and comfortable around the blonde, there was no need for him to keep his guard up or pretend he was a better person. They didn't necessarily act as a couple, yet that was what made them a couple all the more. Now, months later, their friendship had already developed into something much deeper and it made him realize he wasn't afraid any longer.

Yes, he was foolish for not realizing earlier, but he no longer feared.

With his eyes closed he inhaled the cold air deeply as he threw away the cigarette butt and readied himself to return home. Suddenly he yearned to hold Berwald close.


End file.
